


We've got all the time in the world, baby (or at least until time runs out)

by tigerlo



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, a sickly sweet little backstory, erin and jillian are soul-mates, this movie was only two hours long how have i fallen so in love with you two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 04:23:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8148991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerlo/pseuds/tigerlo
Summary: They’ve just met, but she can already tell that this Erin Gilbert, Doctor of Particle Physics is going to be the most beautiful thing she's ever tried to take to pieces. OrA brief summary of Jillian's life, culminating in the situation as we know it, where Holtzmann falls in love with Erin and doesn’t realise until it’s almost too late.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written very quickly and only proof-read by my damn self, so I apologise in advance for any errors. They are all mine and mine alone!
> 
> The Jillian/OFC is only very brief and occurs before she even meets Erin, so don't let that turn you off...
> 
> Also...a few of my own silly little head canons that might help the story make more sense:
> 
> In her head, she’s Jillian not Holtzmann or Holtz or Holtzy because the voice she hears is that of her mothers and no one else's. She has a tidy bedroom, like her lab is a pigsty but there’s an autistic type tendency to need to keep the space she sleeps spotless and non-chaotic. And finally, Jillian is actually a huge softy who cries when she’s sad.

 

 

-

 

Jillian is six when she first hears the words ‘genius’ and ‘prodigy’.

 

She is sitting in a strange doctor’s office with her parents, staring at the odd posters on the wall with pictures of distraught looking children and words that say ‘how to deal with loss’ or ‘what to do when you can't control your temper’ when the doctor says them to her mother. 

 

She doesn't even see what the big deal is, or why her parents even dragged her in here. All she had done was wrote a few things on the wall on her bedroom in the middle of the night. She knows it's wrong, but she couldn't find any more paper in the house and the numbers and letters weren't stopping in her brain, so she thought she should continue to write them down. 

 

Jillian hears the doctors tell her parents that, while uncommon, her behaviour is nothing to be afraid of. She’s just special, that’s all.

 

-

 

They decide to keep her in normal school at the correct grade level as indicated by her age at first, but it doesn’t last long. 

 

“It's important she grows up with kids her own age, Carol,” her father whispers to her mother as they drive home from the doctor's office, Jillian having feigned sleep to allow them privacy. 

 

“You've watched the documentaries, you know what those child prodigies end up like if they're advanced to university at 12 years old.”

 

“ _ You  _ heard what the doctor said Steven, if we don't provide the opportunity for advanced learning, she'll turn in on herself and then what, she's messed up worse?”

 

“What if we try and organise for her to attend a few classes at the local university when it comes to that?” her father says in compromise. 

 

“It's early days”, he says finally, and she can hear her father's hand settle on her mother's where she imagines them white knuckles in her lap. 

 

“With any luck it'll be years before we even have to think about it.”

 

-

 

Jillian is eleven when she attends her first university lecture. 

 

Some of the older students ask if she's looking for her mother and she just nods and takes a seat at the very front away from everybody else. 

 

She picks out an error in a formula in the textbook ten minutes in. 

 

-

 

One day after school she asks her mother if ghosts are real.

 

Her mother's reaction is exactly as she had hypothesised, dismissive and light. 

 

“No dear, I don't think so.”

 

Clearly thinking that had resolved their conversation, her mother turns startled when she replies matter of factly a moment later. 

 

“But by my calculations, they must exist,” Jillian says pointing down to the notebook sitting on the kitchen table in front of her. 

 

Her mother's face had changed then, the look that often graced her features whenever Jillian spoke of things far beyond her comprehension falling over it. 

 

“There are a number of theories that already support the hypothesis, and it seems to make sense after all. Matter can only be transferred, never really fully destroyed, therefore it only makes sense that there must be an adjacent plane out of normal comprehension where that matter is transferred to.”

 

She watches her mother's expression carefully. Dismissal, then fear, then a careful and well practised schooling of her features into something neutral. 

 

“That sounds like it might be slightly beyond me sweetheart, why don't you discuss it during your next meeting with your friends at the university?”

 

Jillian nods at that, her mother's continued look of distress lost on her as she burrows her head back down into her work book, furiously scribbling formulas. 

 

-

 

Jillian is sixteen when she hears the word ‘lesbian’ for the first time. 

 

She's getting changed for her phys-ed class, her parents insist on keeping up this ridiculous middle school act, when she hears the girls whispering on the other side of the locker room. 

 

“I know, she's never even looked at the boys,” one says. 

 

“She's just a nerd, she doesn't take her nose out of her book long enough to notice them,” her friend says in reply. 

 

“Yeah maybe, or maybe she's just a big old lesbian and that's why she's never had a boyfriend?” the first girl says again. 

 

It’s true, Jillian has never been interested in boys, but she had always just assumed with that small part of her consciousness devoted to romanticism, that it had been due to her devotion to science and the fact that they were all stupider than her, therefore not worth her attention. 

 

She is sixteen when she realises that maybe, she never looked at boys for another reason entirely. 

 

-

 

She is hypothetically gay until she is eighteen. 

 

Hypothetical, as in never actually conducted an experiment to prove her assumed homosexuality. 

 

Her parents finally allow her to move onto campus to finish her PhD, and she is relieved at not having to leave the lab in time to get home before they begin to worry at night. 

 

She is assigned a roommate, a quiet mousy girl with oversized glasses and brown drab hair. The other girl is studying molecular biology and keeps to herself for the most part, barely speaking to Jillian unless it's to say good morning or good night. 

 

They co-habitate with relative peace and ease, Jillian careful to keep her many many notes and scribbles to her side of the room, conscious of making absolutely no noise when she finally collapses fully dressed at 3am most nights. 

 

One night, the girl, Katie is her name, invites Jillian to a party on campus. 

 

“It might be lame but I've never really seen you hang out with anyone so figured you might want to come and meet some people?” she says kindly, one rare night Jillian is back in her room before 10pm. 

 

Her first thought is an awkward but polite decline, but then she thinks back to something she had read online about college parties and ‘hooking up’ and she nods and smiles and asks what time the party is. 

 

-

 

Conscious for the first time of her appearance, she carefully picks out some khaki jodhpurs and an oversized white shirt she had borrowed from her father's wardrobe, before slipping on her boots.

 

She's buttoning up her top button when the knock at the door heralds the arrival of Katie's friends, ready to go to the party. 

 

Katie welcomes them in and Jillian watches as four girls, all very plain looking file into the room. Katie goes to close the door when one of her friends holds the door open. 

 

“Louisa should be just down the hall, you know how much longer she spends getting ready.”

 

Katie rolls her eyes impatiently as the final person tumbles into the room, slightly breathless. 

 

Her hair is red, long and beautiful, flowing to her shoulders, and for a moment Jillian forgets her own name. 

 

She shines like a star, almost blindingly amongst the mediocrity of the rest of Katie's friends. 

 

Her eyes settle on Jillian's across the room and in that instant she is infinitely thankful she had given in to vanity for once in her life. 

 

She's beautiful, easily the most beautiful woman Jillian has ever seen. The deep navy dress she has on contrasts perfectly with the glowing red of her hair, like a coal, or the hot colour of the tip of a soldering iron. 

 

“Sorry I'm late Katie-bear,” she says not sounding the least bit apologetic, her eyes never leaving Jillian’s once. “Who's your friend?”

 

“Louisa, this is my room mate, Jillian. Jillian, Louisa,” she says waving a mildly annoyed hand between them, a knowing look plastered on her face. 

 

Jillian feels Louisa's eyes drop from hers briefly, raking their way boldly down her body. She tries everything she can think of to attempt to stop the warm blush she can feel creeping up her chest over her face, but to no apparent effect, when she sees Louisa's eyes light up at the colour pouring into her cheeks. 

 

“Ok, can we finally go now?” one of Katie's other friends asks impatiently. “Those sigma ki boys bought a keg and that's going to be long gone if we don't leave here, like immediately.”

 

With that they all file out of the dorm room, Louisa waiting until all the other girls had left before moving to stand halfway in the doorframe.

 

“After you,” she gestures to the tight space between herself and the door. 

 

Jillian nods shyly before taking a step towards her and pauses. 

 

Who is this Jillian, she thinks to herself, that solved an unsolvable physics equation when she was eight, but all of a sudden can't even form a sentence in the face of a girl flirting with her? Not good enough Holtzman, she thinks quickly, you've excelled at everything else in life, picking up a girl will be no different. 

 

Donning a new sense of confidence and bravado she doesn't quite feel, Jillian steps right into Louisa's space before purposely brushing as much of her body against Louisa's as she squeezes past her. 

 

She takes several steps before looking behind her and returning the up and down look the other girl had given her a moment earlier. She says nothing but smirks as loudly as if she had spoken, and continues towards the others, not waiting for Louisa to catch up.

 

-

 

The party is loud and sticky and everything Jillian always imagined a college frat party to be. 

 

She pours her own drink and never takes her eyes off it, as per her mother's careful instructions, and mostly stands in a corner watching the party happen around her. 

 

A few guys, and a few girls, come and try to chat her up but she politely refuses all offers to dance and continues to watch Louisa from across the room, red hair bouncing as she laughs or swags lightly to the pounding music. 

 

All of a sudden overwhelmed with the chaos of noise and lights, Jillian turns and hunts out the stairs to the upper floor in search of a moment's reprieve. 

 

She's only up there a moment or two, sitting on the edge of someone's bed when she hears a familiar voice. 

 

“You know people normally only come upstairs at a party for one reason,” Louisa says boldly, leaning casually on the door frame. Her cheeks are flushed from dancing, and a few small beads of sweat sit on her chest just above her cleavage. 

 

“Huh, I wouldn't know,” says Jillian casually. “Party virgin,” she says gesturing to herself. 

 

“You're telling me you've never been to a college party before?” Louisa says suspiciously. 

 

“Nope,” Jillian says, swinging her legs off the end of the bed. 

 

“Well, I think it's my official duty to teach you all about parties then, you know as a seasoned veteran myself. I'd hate to think you had anything less than an outstanding experience on your first outing,” she says as she stalks slowly towards the bed, sitting much closer to Jillian than strictly necessary. 

 

She's good at a lot of things, but human interaction is not one of them. She thinks, possibly….maybe, that Louisa is flirting with her, but she needs more evidence before she can form a conclusion. 

 

“What would one's first party experience typically contain?” Jillian asks, turning to face Louisa. 

 

“Well there are a number of standard things, heavy drinking, sweaty inappropriate dancing, normally followed by some sort of vaguely sexual experience with a near stranger, but that last part depends really,” she says vaguely. 

 

“On what?” Jillian says taking the bait. 

 

“Well some girls like to dance with boys, and they're generally guaranteed a messy fumble in the dark. Although the quality of said experience varies greatly.”

 

She leans closer to Jillian, her hand coming to brush slightly against Jillian's where it's holding on to the edge of the bed. 

 

“That sounds quite risky,” Jillian husks, her body acutely aware of the sparks arcing between their hands. 

 

“Some girls though are much much cleverer. They dance with girls, you see. Generally rarer and more difficult to identify but the quality of the experience is absolutely worth the extra work.”

 

“Interesting. Would you happen to know of anyone that might fit that description? You know, as a professional party-goer.” 

 

“I can think of an excellent candidate,” Louisa says angling her body around so she can look at Jillian more directly. 

 

“Yeah?” Jillian asks, her eyes never leaving Louisa's lips. 

 

“Yeah,” Louisa says in confirmation, before her hands pull at the front of Jillian's shirt, smashing their mouths together. 

 

Jillian is hesitant at first, no experience to draw from to inform her actions, but that doesn't seem to matter. Louisa is firm and confident but not overbearing. The kiss remains chaste at first, and once Louisa feels Jillian relax into her further she sweeps her tongue across Jillian's lower lip, asking permission. 

 

She parts her lips slightly and feels Louisa's tongue brush against hers. She feels one of Louisa's hands move from the front of her shirt to tangle itself in her hair, pulling slightly. Jillian’s mouth falls open at the sudden touch, a moan falling from her as Louisa's tongue moves more aggressively against hers. 

 

She's vaguely aware of the sensation of Louisa’s hands on her shoulders, pushing her lightly back onto the bed as Louisa moves to straddle her hips.

 

They kiss like that for long minutes before Louisa’s hand starts to creep up Jillian’s side, pulling lightly at her shirt where it’s bunched into her pants.

 

“Is this ok?” Louisa asks breathlessly.

 

She tries to open her mouth but words utterly fail her, and it’s all she can do to nod desperately as Louisa’s hands make contact with her skin. 

 

She feels hands skim over her ribs, brushing against the underside of her bra.

 

“I uh...I’ve never done this before,” Jillian stutters softly when she feels Louisa’s hand brush more firmly over her breast

 

“I have. Is that alright with you?”

 

“I’m pleased one us know what we’re doing,” Jillian says, trying to make light of the situation.

 

“Oh don’t worry, something tells me you’ll be a quick study,” Louisa says, her mouth dropping to kiss hotly up Jillian’s neck.

 

-

 

If there’s one thing no one will ever say about Jillian Holtzmann, it’s that she’s a slow learner.

 

She listens to the way her own body reacts to Louisa’s touch, taking note of the way she bends towards different movements.

 

Louisa makes her feel things she didn’t even know were possible. She’s not a prude by any means, but she’s never really seen the value in giving into the whole sexual experience thing. She’s far more interested in spending her spare time in the lab, or working through equations than subscribing to the societal pressure of ‘doing it’.

 

Five minutes spent with Louisa’s hands roaming freely all over her body have her completely reviewing this utterly misguided view on her priorities, however. 

 

Her body positively sings under Louisa’s touch. She feels like if she’s quiet enough, she can feel the rush of every single electron in her body.

 

Louisa it turns out, not only knows what she’s doing, in Jillian’s opinion, she’s a damn maestro. Her heart almost stops when Louisa’s hand finally slips beneath the waistband of her trousers. 

 

“God, you’re so wet,” Louisa gasps when her fingers dip under Jillian’s underwear.

 

“Is that…” Jillian starts hesitantly.

 

“It’s good,” Louisa says quickly, leaning down to capture Jillian’s lips in a hard kiss. “It’s very, very good.”

 

Her fingers move deftly, alternating between long strokes and teasing brushes. The feeling of it is just so  _ intense _ , and it doesn’t take long before Jillian’s hips jump upwards towards Louisa’s touch, a low shaking starting in her belly.

 

Louisa leans back to watch Jillian’s face, a very pleased playing smile across her features as she feels the orgasm works its way through Jillian’s body.

 

Jillian for her part just screws her eyes shut as her body shakes and shudders under Louisa's touch. 

 

“Holy….wow….” she manages to stutter once her breathing returns to normal. 

 

Louisa just looks down at her and smiles, leaning in to place a quick kiss on Jillian's lips. 

 

“Told you, girls are much more fun than boys,” Louisa says with a wink. 

 

Jillian doesn't actually have anything to say back to that universal truth, so instead she just flips them over and straddles Louisa.

 

The look on the redhead’s face is priceless, but it's nowhere near as good as the moans Jillian draws from her next. She uses the reactions of her own body as a starting point and hypothesizes her way up and down Louisa's body. 

 

She doesn't stop when Louisa comes apart beneath her the first time….or the second. 

 

-

 

College becomes significantly more satisfying after that. 

 

Louisa is a semi-permanent fixture in her routine that runs between the lab, her room and some sort of food outlet. 

 

They never actually label it though. Louisa never commits to being exclusive, and at first that hurts, but once Jillian meets another girl at a party one night she begins to think it's not such a bad thing after all. 

 

The only problem is, girls only seem to love her in the dark of night. They love the way she touches them when no one's looking and the way she can make them quake under her slim fingers, but when the sun comes up they all hand her the discarded clothes from the night before and push her politely out the door. 

 

And it's fine for the most part, honestly it is. Jillian's more than used to the half-cut acceptance, but occasionally she meets a girl she'd like to have a second date with but they all treat her the same. 

 

“I don't really know what I want to label myself.”

 

“I just wanted to see what it was like to kiss a girl.”

 

“No-one knows I'm gay, ok?”

 

“My boyfriend will be home soon.”

 

After a while she just stops trying to look for something more, happy to take the trickle of affection when it's offered up. 

 

And maybe she takes some liberties when she is with another girl. She kisses harder, pulls them closer, linking their fingers together as she makes them come. Any dribble of human affection she can take, she stretches out to the extreme, but they never seem notice. 

 

-

 

A few years later she meets Abby Yates and her world rotates on its axis and changes forever. 

 

Abby doesn't look at her like she's strange or weird or different. She just stares at her open-mouthed when Jillian explains some of her older inventions, and offers her a job on the spot. 

 

Abby tells her about her field of study over a jug of beer later that afternoon, and Jillian doesn't bat an eyelash or skip a breath when she tells Abby she could probably build things to help her prove her hypotheses. 

 

Hell, who is she to say ghosts don't exist?

 

-

 

She knows Abby has been hurt by someone, but it takes her about six months to finally get to the bottom of it, even with her exceptional investigative skills. 

 

She spots a book on the edge of Abby's desk, only picking it up because it's teetering dangerously on the edge of falling off. 

 

“Abs, I didn't know you wrote a book? Why didn't you tell me? It that bad, huh?”

 

She flips the cover open and sees an  _ excellent _ picture of Abby circa 1990, alongside another woman with an equally exceptional haircut. 

 

“Hey, who's the lady-killer?” she says looking up from the book. 

 

The flash of pain and hurt that cuts across Abby's face is more than Jillian needs to know so she walks over, uncharacteristically quiet, and scoops Abby's hands up in hers. 

 

“Sister? Girlfrieeend?” Jillian asks as light as possible. 

 

“What? No,” Abby says dismissing her question. “She was my best friend. For years. We met at high school and clicked instantly. Kids used to bully her but I was big enough and aggressive enough that most of them were scared of me, and she was the only one that never called me names so I stopped them. We were inseparable, especially after she told me about seeing a ghost. Our entire academic careers evolved from that one point, really.”

 

Abby takes a big breath and continues. 

 

“Long story short, we published  _ this _ beauty and then she got offered a temporary teaching job at Columbia that had the potential to become full time, and she couldn't pass it up. Honestly, I couldn't blame her but I always thought what we had was more important than job security, you know?”

 

“I'm sorry, boo,” Jillian offers as a condolence. 

 

“Pffft, it was a long time ago. I barely even think of her anymore.” 

 

Abby tells the lie easily enough, but Jillian can see right through it. It tastes the same as the half-truths she's been telling herself for years. 

 

She can tell that Abby’s done talking about this though, so chooses to drop it instead of gnawing on what is obviously still an open wound. Contrary to popular belief, she's actually very good at reading people. Most of the time she just chooses not to act on the socially defined ‘right’ response. 

 

She gives Abby's hand a quick squeeze before dancing back to her own corner of the lab. 

 

She pokes her head above her small tower of machinery a few minutes later, to see that Abby still hasn't moved from the spot Jillian had left her in. 

 

“Hey, it's her loss my friend.”

 

Abby looks up at her words and smiles sadly. 

 

“That's the thing though, as much as I don't want it to be, it's my loss too.”

 

-

 

The first time she actually sees Erin Gilbert in the flesh she thinks that it's not possible, even with the infiniteness of matter and possibility, that the universe could have made something so perfect. 

 

She's very different from the picture on the jacket of their book but Jillian recognises her instantly, tweed and all. 

 

She knows she should hate the woman on sight because she knows how badly she broke Abby's heart. Abby, the only one who has ever shown her unconditional love and loyalty. She knows, and she tries (for an infinitely long three seconds) she really tries, but Jillian knows instantly that it will be the most fruitless endeavour she will ever undertake.

 

She knows because she falls in lust with Erin the second she walks through the door, and in love the second she opens her mouth. 

 

She's prissy and tightly wound, Jillian can see that from the other side of the room, but she can already tell that this Miss Gilbert, Doctor of Particle Physics is going to be the most beautiful thing she's ever tried to take to pieces. 

 

-

 

She flirts like an idiot because that's her safe default, and if she's honest she wants to see how the other woman reacts. 

 

From what she remembers of what Abby has told her (and honestly, she's told her a lot about Erin over the years) she had indicated an interest in boys at school and throughout university, but she had only had one or two dalliances with them. She thinks Abby mentioned something once about the way that Erin's eyes used to follow their female professor, more than she ever saw them follow a boy.

 

Erin reacts like any sexually confused girl she's ever flirted with, speechless and cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. 

 

She doubts Erin herself actually knows what to label her sexuality, if her awkward reactions and atypical attraction to Kevin the Office Beefcake are anything to go by. 

 

Jillian doesn't mind though, she's in this one for the long game, even if it means years of endless one sided pining. 

 

Instead of taking a more aggressive tact, she just sits back, waits and chooses her moments, and eventually Erin starts to relax around her. 

 

Before long they add Patty to their little team, and for the first time in her life Jillian thinks she finally understands the word ‘family’. 

 

They meet Rowan and save the world, blah blah blah, and they begin to settle back into a rhythm again, only this time she has four other people to ask her how she’s doing, not just one. 

 

-

 

She calls the top floor of the firehouse, which Abby and Patty agree to let her have but only if Erin's workspace is up there too. You know, for safety observational reasons. 

 

Honestly, she couldn't have thought of a sweeter deal herself - enormous work space, and the oblivious love of her life present within two feet of her on a daily basis. 

 

The one thing she hadn't accounted for however, was just how distracting it would be to have Erin around her constantly. No amount of 80’s pop music and Glee show tunes could mute her presence, no matter how hard Jillian tried. 

 

Erin for her part, remains unbelievably obtuse to everything, or so Jillian thinks. 

 

She's different now though. The tweed suits are gone, replaced with comfy yoga pants and Jillian’s hoodies. She's softer and calmer and she smiles approximately five times more often than when they had first met. 

 

(Jillian knows because she keeps track)

 

She's less awkward with Jillian's persistent flirting, but the hesitation is still there, like she can't quite decide if she wants to flirt back or ignore it. Maybe she doesn't know how. 

 

-

 

The first time she watches Erin go out on a date, Jillian actually thinks she might be sick. She can't say she's surprised though, they all have a more or less constant stream of admirers since saving the world.

 

Some are crazier than others granted, but even Patty and Abby have had a few people approach them. 

 

Not that she's ever had a shortage of people eyeing her up in bars, but she's almost guaranteed to get at least one phone number when they go out now. 

 

And it's not that they're not beautiful, or sometimes a bit tempting, but the shine has all but worn off the one-night stands, especially in light of the brilliance that is Erin Gilbert. 

 

She watches the way Erin eyes up the girls that come to offer themselves up for her attention. At first she had thought Erin was just annoyed that they had come to interrupt their group as they relaxed after a good bust, but her eyes don't narrow the same way when guys come up to give Patty their number, or Abby. Just her. 

 

Ever the scientist, she starts to look for patterns in Erin's behaviour. Erin never scowls at anyone that approaches the rest of the group as Jillian keeps watch over the next few weeks. Hell, on one occasion she even pushes Patty towards a particularly well-muscled Welshman that won't stop eyeing her up. 

 

But Jillian, with Jillian it's almost like there are a different set of rules. If Erin's scowl doesn't scare the poor girls away immediately, Jillian finds she will pick them apart once they've left her their number. 

 

“She's too tall for you Holtzmann.”

 

or

 

“Did you see the way she was dressed, come on you can do better than that Holtz.” 

 

or 

 

“There's no way you're bringing a girl like that back to the firehouse, she looks about as safety conscious as Kevin.”

 

Jillian knows she should find it annoying but honestly, she just thinks it's kind of endearing. She's also totally convinced Erin has absolutely no idea that she's even doing it, which only makes it more sweeter to her. 

 

She knows that Abby has started to notice too. The blonde watches as her eyes narrow when Erin strips down another one of Jillian's admirers the next time they're out.

 

Still, none of the one-sided criticism stops Erin going on her first date, about a month after the whole apocalypse is tied up with a neat bow. 

 

She comes up to their floor dressed in a beautiful floaty number that has Jillian's breath sticking in her throat when she finally looks up from the gun she's tinkering with.

 

“Holy-moley, Gilbert,” she says shocked. “Where are you going looking like that?” 

 

“Oh,” Erin says embarrassed, looking down at her dress. “Date. I mean I've got a date.”

 

“Oohhhhbhhh,” Jillian says, madly trying to keep the waver out of her voice. “Well you look like Christmas morning, he's a lucky guy.”

 

“Thanks,” Erin says, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I'll ah, see you later?”

 

“I'll be here,” she says looking back down at her hands as they start to shake ever so slightly. “Don't got nowhere else to be.”

 

“Really?” Erin says surprised. “A Saturday night, I thought you'd be flooded with offers?”

 

What she wants to say is, ‘Erin, if you'd paid attention you would have realised I haven't gone on a single date or brought one girl home since we all moved into this place because all I can think about every second of every day is you. You you you you.’ 

 

What she does say is: “Oh I got em. Got a few of them, just don't fancy the company at mo.” 

 

Something about her speech must sound off though because instead of turning to leave, Erin walks closer to her desk.

 

“Holtz, is everything ok?” 

 

“Peachy-keen Gilly-bean,” she replies in a sing-song voice, not looking Erin in the eye.

 

“Ok,” Erin says simply, backing away from Jillian hesitantly. 

 

She lingers in the doorway, obviously aware that something’s up, even if the blonde won’t get it off her mind. In the end Jillian tries to send her off with a parting sentiment.

 

“You’ll be late for your very fine date Gilbert, get out of here.”

 

After what feels like an eternity, she feels Erin slip out of the room, her absence leaving a physical hole in the room. 

 

Jillian waits until she hears the last click of Erin’s heels on the bottom stair before she lets the first tear fall.

 

-

 

By way of complete accident, Patty finds her in a puddle of waterworks approximately two hours later.

 

“Holtzy, I got that damn nasty salty caramel ice-cream y’all weird white woman like so mu…”

 

She hardly ever comes upstairs, refusing to step foot into what she calls ‘a minefield of weird-shit beyond the realm of normal human comprehension’, so Jillian had been expecting to be able to cry her eyes out for another good thirty minutes before she needed to start to pull herself together.

 

“Oh, damn girl? What’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself? I don’t know how many times I told you not to work on the dangerous stuff after 10pm, you know you get droopy eyed!”

 

She walks over to Jillian, setting the ice-cream down on the corner of the table before she picks up each of the blonde’s limbs for inspection. Upon finding her (generally) intact, Patty sighs deeply and pulls up a chair next to her.

 

“Baby, this isn’t about Miss Red going out on a date tonight, is it?”

 

“Course not,” she sniffs moodily.

 

“Oh hell Holtzy, we thought it was just a crush. We didn’t think it was anything serious.”

 

She tries to shrug but just ends up crying again, and Patty pulls her quickly into a crushing hug.

 

“Girl, you’ve got to tell her how you feel. You’ve got to tell her before it’s too late.”

 

“I don’t even know if she’s interested in me like that,” Jillian replies, wiping her nose roughly on her sleeve.

 

“Damn. You know for a smart-ass scientist, you sure can be as dumb as a box of hair sometimes. Haven’t you seen the way she looks at you? Like you gone and hung the damn moon, girl.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, really. And I know you’ve seen the way she stares down any girl who tries to get anywhere near you in a bar.”

 

“Yeah, but I thought that was just her being territorial. Like a little baby pitbull.”

 

“She loves you boo, even if she don’t know it herself yet. One of y’all just got to be the brave one and do something about it, before you do something stupid like fall in love with other people.”

 

“What if it’s already too late? What if she’s just met the future Mr Gilbert?”

 

“You don’t think you got more game than some boring old college stiff? Come on Holty, I know you can do better than that.”

 

She nods, sniffing one last time as the tears dry up. She pulls herself straighter in her chair and watches as Patty smiles.

 

“There you go girl. Now you get started on your speech and i’mma go tell Abby that we might need to make ourselves scarce for a few hours, alright?”

 

“Thanks Patty-cake.”

 

“Anytime baby, anytime.”

 

-

 

She spends time between ‘right now’ and ‘the moment Erin walks through the door’ trying to plan the grandest gesture she can think of to tell Erin how she feels, but she starts to lose heart when 11pm comes and goes, and then midnight and then 1am.

 

She falls asleep at her desk because she can’t face the thought of going to sleep in a bed. A bed, like the one Erin’s probably in right now with Mr ‘Generic Tenured Gentleman’, his grabby hands around her waist or maybe even just holding her hand….

 

She wakes up to soft fingers sweeping her hair away from her face and a gentle voice at her ear.

 

“Holtzmann? Holtz? Jillian?”

 

She opens her eyes, still blurry from sleep, and sees Erin with a halo of light behind her head.

 

It takes her a moment to realise that the Erin crouched beside her is actually real and not an apparition or dream-Erin.

 

“How was your date?” she says sleepily, sadness eating at the edges of her words.

 

“It was….illuminating,” Erin says vaguely.

 

“I’m happy for you,” Jillian says, her head dropping back into her hands. She wills the tears to have the decency to wait until Erin has at least left the room before they fall.

 

“I left the date Holtz.”

 

That gets her attention, alright. She peers confusedly up at Erin’s face, looking for clarity.

 

“What?”

 

“I left him at the restaurant, poor guy. Didn’t even make it to the main course,” Erin says, but she sounds like she’s not really sorry at all.

 

“But where have you….?” Jillian starts before Erin completes the thought for her. 

 

“I just needed some time to think. I wanted to get everything in order up here before I came to talk to you. I wanted to make sure it came out right.”

 

“I don’t understand?” she says, dragging herself to sit up in her chair to look at Erin more clearly.

 

“Well I was sitting there, with this guy who by all accounts should have ticked every single one of my boxes, and all I could think about was what stupid name you would have given him if he’d come up to talk to me in a bar after a bust.”

 

She looks meaningfully at Jillian before continuing.

 

“So I was sitting there, staring at him, thinking about you and everything just hit me. Like, came down like a ton of bricks all at once. Why I’ve never smiled so much since I met you, or why I can’t stand those stupid bimbos that try and palm themselves off on you in bars, or why the thought of you sitting here alone while I was out with some stranger suddenly seemed like the stupidest thing in the world.”

 

Jillian thinks she’s done for a moment, but then Erin takes another breath and keeps going.

 

“God I never thought I would ever be this brave, but do you know what? I don’t care anymore. I don’t care about what people think, or what names they want to call me, or what they’ll think when they see us walking down the street holding hands. Because none of it really matters in the end. The only thing that matters is that you know how i feel. That you know that I feel the same way about you, as I think you feel about me.”

 

She’s never been speechless. Like, she’s come pretty close a few times, sure, but never like this. More time than she can account for must pass, because Erin feels the need to patch the silence. 

 

“Feel free to chip in anytime, Holtz,” she says, voice starting to wobble with nerves.

 

Here’s the thing. Jillian’s never really been good with words. What she is good at however, is action. So she doesn’t speak, doesn’t bother to reply. She just grabs Erin by the front of her jacket and pulls, crashing their lips together.

 

Erin under her touch is soft and pliant and solid and sweet. She smells like the vanilla perfume she wears on special occasions and tastes faintly of orange tic tacs, and it’s the most perfect thing Jillian has ever experienced in her whole life. 

 

She reacts to Jillian easily, pulling her up and out of her chair so Jillian’s standing between Erin’s legs where she’s now perched on the edge of the desk. 

 

Her hands wind in Jillian’s hair, messy waves falling loose from their clips as she splays her fingers and scratches her nails softly against Jillian’s scalp, and they both moan into each others mouths. It’s enough for Jillian to nip at Erin’s bottom lip, prompting her to open her mouth so their tongues can finally move together.

 

Before she knows it, Erin’s hands are pulling at her shirt to get at the bare skin underneath, and she’s pushing softly at Erin’s shoulders to ask what she feels is an essential question.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“I’m sure. Sure as I know that your eyes are blue, and your favourite colour is radio-active green, and your middle name is Katherine, and the only person in the world you’ve ever said I love you too is downstairs.”

 

“Wrong.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You’re wrong. Well you’re currently right but you’re about to be wrong.”

 

“Holtz, what are you talking about?”

 

“The I love you thing. The only person up until now that I’ve ever said I love you too is downstairs. But there’s one other person I want to tell that too. And she’s standing in front of me with her hands up my top, but I don’t quite know where to start.”

 

“Jillian.”

 

“Erin.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

-

 

Somehow they manage to make it down to Jillian’s bedroom which, contrary to popular belief is actually cleaner than any of her other housemates because ‘what kind of hot girl wants to come back and do it in a dirty room’.

 

They peel the clothes off each other like they have all the time in the world, eyes falling unashamedly over each others bodies as they slowly reveal new skin, softly bared to the warm room. 

 

The sun is rising with a relaxed ease outside the window, throwing the most beautiful shadows over Erin’s skin as Jillian kisses her way down her body.

 

She takes her time kissing every freckle on the way. She maps her fingers and tongue over every crest, memorising the way Erin responds to every touch. She pushes and pulls and watches as Erin stretches out beneath her, body pulling tight before it snaps, first under Jillian’s fingers….and then her mouth….and then her fingers again.

 

She climbs back up Erin’s body once she works her down from her high. Jillian kisses her deep and slow and as they curl into each other and as Erin flips them over to straddle her, Jillian she swears she can taste the infinite possibility of the universe in her kisses.

 

-  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! This was sitting like a weight in my head demanding to be written but was done so very quickly, so I hope it reads ok.
> 
> Can I say there is an absolute abundance of amazing fic for these two, despite the fact that the only canon material we have to go off is a two-ish hour long movie. Some of you out there are damn fine authors, and I hope this stacks up ok next to some brilliant stories I've read over the past few months.


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